


How To Tell If A Fairy Is Nearby

by istherewifiinstorybrook



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 02:19:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2715335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/istherewifiinstorybrook/pseuds/istherewifiinstorybrook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of vignettes</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To Tell If A Fairy Is Nearby

[Inspired by](http://d2tq98mqfjyz2l.cloudfront.net/image_cache/1340668903819093.png).

[Like/reblog here](http://istherewifiinstorybrook.tumblr.com/post/77260607175/how-to-tell-if-a-fairy-is-nearby-inspired-by). 

**Note** : I kept to the order of the list so plot wise some of the vignettes are out of order. If you would prefer to read it linearly I recommend (1, 5, 2, 4, 6, 7, 3). 

**1\. Soft, chiming bells.  **

"Hear the bells, Smee? There’s magic afoot!"

** 2\. A strong scent of grass, apples, or wild violets.  
**

He awoke with his face to the earth. His eyelids fluttered opened and he turned to the blonde hair that was splayed out a few inches in front of him. Blonde, that was new to him. She didn’t reek of alcohol like he did. The breeze blew and carried her scent like grass, apples, and wild violets, things that must grow deeper on the island. 

He had spent the night calling out a different name, but so had she. Just bodies searching for another. He reached out to bring her warm frame close to him, his good arm snaking up her back when he felt it slice open. He jerked away and growled, but she did not stir. Confused, like a wounded animal, warm blood dripping down his elbow and into the soil, he cautiously peered over her dirty shoulder. 

Where the natural shoulder blades should have been were instead larger protrusions, both as sharp as the little knife she carried and one, her right, shiny with gore in the early light. 

_ Her wings, _ he thought. Someone had taken her wings and she had grown blades. She was the animal. Wild and feral and rabid. Like the island and its beasts and boys. It had swallowed the fallen fairy whole. Surviving couldn't be a happy ending.

** 3\. Strange, haunting, or jovial music.  
**

"A sea shanty? Isn’t that a bit  _precious_?” She spit his own word back at him.

"Ah, bug! To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?" His crew hushed as he crossed over from the helm to the tip of the bow. She had gone unnoticed for a few counts, enjoying the medley. She scowled and rose from her seat to meet him.

"I’ve come to negotiate a deal. In exchange for Wendy, Pan is willing to let you leave the island." He didn’t need to think too long about this proposition.

"Bring me the girl," he ordered through a steely jaw. 

"No, not here," Tinkerbell said quickly but Mr. Smee had already disappeared. Wendy’s cries below deck cut through the heavy silence left by the absence of the rough, salty chorus. 

"Sunset," Tinkerbell continued. "On the shore. One Wendy for one magic bean." 

He nodded. She nodded.

"Farewell then, Captain Hook. Enjoy your revenge."

"Farewell, Lady Bell."

She disappeared over the side of the ship and the crew struck up their song once more. 

** 4\. Mysterious giggling that comes out of thin air.  
**

He woke in a sweat. Again with the voice. He had only heard it in person once.

“ _Why?_ " That was the question she always asked in her sleep. Over and over and over. Sometimes it she cried it, other times she hissed. That night she had been silent, though. He might have even dreamed it.

He was alone tonight. In his cabin in his quarters on his ship. Giggle. He turned around. Emptiness. Giggle. He spun again on his heel. Stillness. If this was his punishment she was as mad as the mermaids.

Pan had gathered his lackeys earlier to take care of some island business. “Captain! It’s been so long since you flew in on your good ship!”

Tinkerbell perked up. “Your ship flies?” Her eyes had been wide in wonder.

"Flew," Pan answered for him. "In the past tense, pixie. Like you."

She narrowed her eyes at the boy and Hook’s good hand went to his sword. “Apologize to her,” his tone was biting and his jaw locked.

"What?" The boy and his fairy asked together. "Apologize," he repeated to the demon boy, feeling murderous and his hand ready to draw. Tinkerbell then rounded on the man. "Oh, so it’s only okay to berate me if you're the one doing it?!" 

Peter’s eyes lit up. “A lover’s spit!” He cried, excited.

"Let’s go, Peter. We don’t need the pirates’ help." She had insisted, retreating back into the forest.

He hated the way she called the beast by name. Giggle. His eyes were shut tight. Giggle. He pressed his pillow into his ears. Giggle. “Enough!” His shout had rocked the calm of the ship. He heard the thumps of sailors slipping out of bunks. Stacks of pans clanged and crashed in the kitchens. Giggle. 

** 5\. Mushrooms circles.  
**

He stared at the treehouse for a moment, proud of his land navigation, before crossing the mushroom ring surrounding her home. She was in front of him almost immediately. “Go away.” She already had told him with a knife to his throat that pixie dust was gone from the island. He tried to smile. “Lady Bell I just thought - ” “I got you an audience with Pan, what more do you want?” “Well you can assume it wasn’t fructiferous, seeing as I am still here. I  _know_ you have magic, fairy, I - “ “I don’t have any magic left.” Her voice was firm. Not the sad, shaky voice that repeated the same thing to herself every night. “No, not me. But the island does. In its dirt and dust. Its wind. Its _shadows_. That’s why I’m here. It’s as close as I can get from now on.” She confided, pushing him off the crushed portion of the circle.

** 6\. Large patches of four-leaf clovers.  
**

He couldn’t remember what he had come ashore to pick a fight with her about. It wasn’t long until he found her in the cloverfield and their dry lips had collided in rage. Now he was sliding off her dress.

“ _Careful_ ,” she muttered as his hand roamed her back.

“ _Careful_ ,” he muttered as his cold hook ran down her side. 

** 7\. You are followed by a crow or a raven. **   


_"MILAH, MILAH! MY MILAH! I LOVE HER, I LOVE HER, I LOVE HER! ”_

She had screamed at him earlier, her cheeks red and her eyes green. He was always muttering it into her skin. In her hair. His drink. Guilt was his favorite chaser for alcohol. 

She was ready to cut his throat and he was ready to let her.

She came to him later, days later. He didn’t think she knew how to apologize to begin with, but remorse was in her tone.

"There’s a saying among fairies, that you die twice. Once, when you stop breathing, and again when someone says your name for the last time."

"But you’re not a fairy anymore."

"No, I’m not a fairy anymore."

A raven crowed above the trees. 


End file.
